


Refusal

by ren (renegadewriter)



Series: The Paratrooper and the Samurai [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cause Crosshairs is an Idiot, Crosshairs is Reckless, Drift is not Amused, Feelings are revealed, M/M, Small Deadlock Appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegadewriter/pseuds/ren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When humans attack the Yeager farm, Crosshairs goes and does something stupid. Drift is livid and doesn't hide it. Things are said, and feelings are revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Refusal

**Author's Note:**

> First fic with this pair! Got to say, I kind of really ship them now.
> 
> EDITED: August 5, 2014

The English language had many words that meant anger, each with a different degree. There was annoyance, frustration and vexation. All small or mild degrees of anger. Then there was rage and fury. But at the moment, _livid_ was the word that would describe Drift’s mood.

Bumblebee, and even Hound had taken one look at him and left as fast as they could, both taking a hold of the humans. Just in case. With this level of seething Drift on the loose, the mech sometimes reverted back to his Decepticon ways. And that meant no paying attention to his surrounding when shit hit the fan. No one wanted a squished human on their servos. 

Prime would kill them.

The object of his fury was obvious to them. Crosshairs. And Drift had a right to be. Hound was feeling particularly murderous as it were. The mech had scared them bad.

It hadn’t been two months since Prime left that the trouble started. There was still a large part of CIA rouge members out for Cybertronian blood. Other humans, now aware of the value of their frames had also started to appear on their radar. And Crosshairs had gone and done something stupid.

It’d happened just a few hours ago. Everyone was gone from the Yeager farm except Crosshairs and Tessa. The green mech had refused to go on patrol, and the teenager had refused to go out at all. It was, in her words, too damn hot to do anything. The men that arrived at the farm had, much like when Optimus had shown himself to Attinger, violently pulled Tessa out of the house and threaten her with all manner of unmentionable things if she didn’t tell them where the Autobots were.

Crosshairs, instead of calling for backup, had preceded to run a few of them over and then hightail it out of there, the remainder men in pursuit. However, they hadn’t gotten a few miles away before a few well placed shots and an EMP blast had downed the paratrooper. Hurt and unfocused, Crosshairs had had no chance when the men brought him down. It had been when they were in the process of trying to offline him for good that the others had arrived, alerted by a hysterical Tessa. Drift had arrived at the scene first, his helicopter form getting him there faster.

One look at the hurt mech, and the men over his frame trying to deactivate him, had sent him into a flurry of deadly movement. Hound and Bumblebee had arrived to pick off the remainder men, caging them in one of the trucks they’d brought to transport any ‘parts’ they acquired.

After an angry call with the sector in charge of protecting the Autobots (which had been formed by the military after the details of what had been going on were leaked), and making sure Crosshairs was alright (the mech had pushed them away and staggered back home on his own), they returned to the Yeager farm.

Once home, Drift had stormed past them all after the paratrooper.

The mech in question was in the hangar Joshua Joyce had built for them. Big enough to house them all without getting into each other’s space. They also had a small armory (Crosshairs and Hound had actually drawn a line to keep the other away from their stuff), and a medical center. The latter was just a small one though, but well equipped.

That’s where Drift found Crosshairs. The mech’s back was facing him as he sat on a small crate made chair, cursing as he tried to weld a wound on his arm. The sight of the wound only served to enrage Drift even more, his optics slowly turning into an orange hue. Just a bit more, and they would be deep red.

“You are an imbecile.” He said icily as a way of greeting.

Crosshairs stopped his ministrations, turning on the crate to glare at the Bugatti. If he noticed the dramatic change in his optics Crosshairs didn’t give any indications.

“The frag is that supposed to mean?” He hadn’t heard Drift enter, and he was far from pleased at being insulted for no reason at all.

“You think you can waltz in here and insult mechs for kicks? What happened to all your zen?” He snapped, returning to the wound on his arm and firmly ignoring Drift.

Servos clenched into fists and gritted denta, Drift walked forward, steps silent and deadly. Not paying any attention to his surrounding, and not ever imagining the danger he was in, Crosshairs gave a startled yell as he was hit from behind. He fell off the crate onto his front. His instincts kicking in, the paratrooper got his gun out and turn to shoot, only to have it violently kicked away. Before he could react any further, he was on his back, a knee on his chest plates pinning him down, and a sword on his neck.

“Easy, easy.” He said calmly, _now_ seeing the red in the normally calm mech’s optics. Even _he_ knew to tread lightly when it happened. Although he had no idea what had triggered old Deadlock back into being. Least of all why _he_ was somehow the target of his wrath.

“Lets not be hasty now.” He added. And oh did those words just increase Drift’s rage.

“Hasty?” He echoed, voice dead and with a hint of threat underneath. “You do not get to say that word, _Autobot_.” Drift- no, _Deadlock_ snarled.

Frag, thought Crosshairs. He had seen Deadlock in action before he defected. It was not pretty. The ease with which the mech left carnage in his wake, and the joy he showed in doing so had made many bots completely and utterly terrified of him (Crosshairs included but, he’d never ever admit to that, even under threats of torture). To have Deadlock fragged off at him was not on his lists of ways to die. 

However, Drift had been with them for many vorns, and had been his friend for just as long. The mech’s personality had never even sparked a hint of fear in the paratrooper. Frag if it was going to start now.

“What the frag is wrong with ya?” Crosshairs growled, wincing as the sword’s sharp blade dug deeper into his neck cables. “Ya got some wires crossed Drift.” He grit out.

“ _I_ am not the one that acted so foolishly and faced those humans on my own.”

“Is _that_ what this is about? Ya’re close to turning back into a no good Decepticon just cause Ah was doing mah _job_?”

Crosshairs sneered, using one leg to push the arm holding the sword to his neck away. Drift took a step back to regain balance, effectively freeing Crosshairs. Seeing his chance, the paratrooper rolled to the side toward where his gun had skidded to. Getting a hold of it he stood up and pointed it at the triple changer.

“Back off Drift. Or I’ll treat ya like yer Deadlock again and shoot ya.” The threat in his voice was real. And maybe that was what made Drift calm down. If only just a bit.

Cycling his optics, and taking a deep breath, Drift stood straight and glared at the paratrooper. His optics were no longer red, but neither were they blue.

“Crosshairs.” He said in a low tone. “Prime told us to stay safe, and he entrusted us with the care of the humans. You did _neither_.”

Crosshairs bared his teeth. “Those humans were gonna come and probably kill the very humans Prime left us with, and if they caught one of us as a bonus? Well, wouldn't complain about it now would they? Specially since that was their aim.”

Drift cursed in Cybertronian and paced the length of the hangar. The green mech’s optics never stopped tracing him. His gun still aimed at the Decepticon turned Autobot, not about to let his guard down even though Drift appeared to.

“You understand nothing.” The blue mech finally snapped, optics meeting his. “You placed yourself in unnecessary danger, if Tessa had not contacted us when she did we could still be out looking for your cold frame. Or do you want the same thing that happened to Ratchet and the others happen to you?”

Just the name of the medic shut them up. The medic’s death and what they had done with his frame had not only outraged them, but sickened and despaired them. It was one thing to kill a Bot, it was another to cannibalize their remains.

Crosshairs’ grip on his gun tightened at the memory.

“So what samurai? What did ya want meh to do? Stay and fight them on the farm? Put Tessa in more danger? Nice, real nice.” Quipped Crosshairs, moving around the hangar as he talked.

“That’s not the point you fool!” Drift shouted suddenly, surprising Crosshairs with the intensity behind his words.

Drift made a visible effort to calm himself. “That is not the point.” He repeated softer. “You put yourself in danger by not contacting us. _That_ should have been the first thing you should have done. But you fought these humans without any concern for your safety. Did you think? Did you care what happened to you, or what would happen to us if you'd been caught and slaughtered?”

Then suddenly Drift lowered his helm, subdued. “Did you care what would happen to _me_?”

Crosshairs blinked at the sudden 180 in both attitude and thought process.

“What?” He asked dumbly, unable to comprehend.

Drift sighed. “You’re a good friend to me Cross. You didn’t seem to care about my past, even if Deadlock terrified you.”

“Now wait just a-”

“And you never let others tell you what to do or think. I always admired that, even if you sometimes verged on the edge of insubordination.” Drift lifted his helm to meet the paratrooper's shocked and slightly offended optics. “I’ve lost many friends in this war, both Decepticons and Autobots. But I _refuse_ to lose you.” His optics brightened in color again. “Specially to your stupidity!” And then proceeded to smack Crosshairs on his helm with the hilt of his sword.

“Ow! You fragging bipolar son of a glitch!” He cursed on habit before calming down. The words that Drift had thrown at him had left him completely unbalanced. Plus the mech rarely called him Cross. It was very disconcerting.

“What are you saying mech? Ah can’t understand yer fancy words. Spit out what ya really want to say or go away!” He growled, aware of what a jerk he was being. But he was now officially treading on territory he had no idea about, and that just made him both scared and angry. Snapping at mechs was just what he did.

Drift, fortunately, saw right through him.

“You are a mech of actions, not words. Here, let me clarify.”

Drift’s servos shot out to grab the seams of Crosshairs chest plates before the mech could react. He pulled the paratrooper to him and smashed their lips together.

Crosshairs would forever deny the yelp that left this vocalizer at the impact. For a few seconds, which Drift would forever deny had scared him, the green mech did nothing, too shocked at the events of the day. Particularly this one.

But as it all hit, Drift’s confession, the reason he had been fragged off... Crosshairs couldn’t help it. He grinned into the kiss before returning it. His arms wrapping around the Bugatti’s waist, bringing them closer together. Reassured, Drift offlined his optics, sighing in contentment. Crosshairs withdrew after awhile with a sigh.

“Well...” He said, a smile on his face plate. “This was rather... unexpected. Although, Ah ain’t complaining.” He smirked with an undertone of something else. “Is this what got ya all upset? And by upset Ah mean going full out Deadlock mode on meh?”

Drift ducked his head at the mention of his old self but nodded. “Yes. You scared me, Cross. And you made me angry at your disregard for your own safety. It was enough to react like that.”

Crosshairs rolled his optics at the mention of his earlier snafu.

“In mah defense... Ah honestly didn’t think. Just wanted those human scum away from the farm.” He mumbled.

The Bugatti sighed, looking upwards in a plea for patience. “You are incredible.”

“Don’t ah know it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Drift snapped, but there was no bite in it.

Crosshairs shrugged. Both fell into silence once again. Crosshairs’ arms were still wrapped around Drift’s waist, his thumb slowly caressing his side. Drift’s servos had yet to let go of the paratrooper’s chest plates, optics locked on a scratch near his throat while the green mech just looked at him lost in thought.

“Ah could get used ta this. It’s strange though... but at the same time... not.” He mussed, sounding confused. “How horrified do you think the humans will react to this?” He added, suddenly his mischievous self again.

Drift almost laughed, because of course Crosshairs would want to use this to confuse the humans even farther. “Cade would most likely bring up the ‘no dating household’ rule.”

Crosshairs shrugged. “Not like he can enforce that. Plus, “He smirked “...we could always elope.”

This time Drift really did laugh.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! =)


End file.
